Fighting Blood With Blood
by Cain Crimson-Blade
Summary: This story is undergoing revision. I am rewriting the story from the beginning.
1. Chapter 1

Pine.

That was the first scent my sensitive nose picked up when I regained consciousness.

Pine and it's sap.

I blinked, trying to gain my bearing. I sat up from my lying position and focused on my surroundings.

I was in a horse-drawn cart. Right across from me sat a man, clearly a Nord with his blond hair, his blue eyes and an overall manly appearance. He was dressed in some sort of armor, the likes of which I had never seen in my days in Cyrodiil. He perked when he caught me looking at him.

"You. You're finally awake."

The man spoke in a slightly coarse, masculine voice. He didn't seem to accuse me. More like stating a fact.

"You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there."

I looked to my right and saw a dirty man in rags, his hair a red brown and his eyes hazel in color. He looked very sour.

"Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell. You there... You and me, we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."

He was hasty in his assumptions, I noted. He sounded afraid and slightly panicked.

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief."

The man across from me spoke up again, somberly.

The Imperial soldier that rode our cart seemed to have gotten fed up with their chatter.

"Shut up back there!"

That did quiet them for just a little. The red haired man, the horse thief looked around, his head darting from side to side, whilst the Nord in front of me looked at me and smiled sadly for a moment. Then, the redhead spoke up again.

"And what's wrong with him, huh?"

Apparently, he shouldn't have said that. The Nord in front of me whipped his head to the thief and almost shouted.

"Watch your tongue. You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King."

I eyed the man they spoke about from the corner of my eye. Fairly tall, dark blonde and with fairly blue eyes, though there was something about them. Something that I recognized.

Despair.

"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion. But if they've captured you... Oh gods, where are they taking us?"

The thief was falling apart as he spoke. I couldn't help but feel slightly sorry for him.

However slightly it was.

I suddenly felt a pang of pain in my chest. The well-known and dreaded pang of hunger. Insatiable hunger, the likes of which I rarely felt.

The Beast stirred in my chest, but I pushed it down. The dark and evil presence in my chest was strong, it was hungry and it craved satiation.

I felt my pulse die down slightly, but I forced it back up to normal levels. After all, it wouldn't do for me to reveal myself here, no matter how few my weaknesses.

I tuned the rest of the conversation out of my head. I saw them move their lips, saw their necks pulsate with the life-giving fluid my inner demon craved so. But I focused. I had to focus. I left for Skyrim for a reason.

Steeling my resolve, I forced down the hunger, forced down the Beast and focused on my breathing and my pulse.

I suddenly felt the cart stop, and my senses once again allowed me hearing.

There was bustling and walking. People spoke and whispered and yelled. I could hear too many heartbeats, the drumming sounds overpowering my senses. I had trouble holding my mortal disguise, keeping up my masquerade. With all the food just walking around me, and knowing next to none of them could actually hurt me, it was tempting to just tear them and dig in.

I looked up and saw the guards waiting for me to exit the wagon. I stood and shuffled over to the edge, not bothered in the slightest by the bindings that held my hands together. I hopped out and started walking over to the other prisoners, but the call of a man stopped me.

"Wait. You there. Step forward. Who are you?"

The man looked young, no more than in his late twenties. His brown hair and blue eyes contrasted, but I saw the mixed heritage in him. He was at least half Nord. I couldn't quite pick out the other part. Imperial or Breton. I contemplated for a few moments, and then gave him my answer.

"Edran. Edran Falcon-Glade."

The man turned his eyes to his list.

"What are you? I can't discern your race."

Another few moments of contemplation before the second answer.

"Nord."

The man frowned and appeared a little sad.

"You picked a bad time to come home to Skyrim, kinsman."

He looked down on his list and then over to the woman beside him.

"Captain. What should we do? He's not on the list."

I looked to the woman. She appeared to have some Redguard in her, but she was mostly Imperial. She eyed me suspiciously, and for a second, I contemplated manipulating her mind into letting me go.

Alas, I decided against it.

She looked back over to the Nord beside her.

"Forget the list. He goes to the block."

The Nord seemed slightly sad, but steeled his resolve and answered her decision loud and clear.

"By your orders, Captain."

He then looked at me, stoic face, but I could see the sadness in his eyes.

"Follow the Captain, prisoner."

I nodded courtly at the young man, who had the kindness to return me the favor. I followed the captain to the crowd of death-sentenced warriors and took a place next to the man who sat across from me in the wagon down here. I leant over slightly and whispered in his ear.

"What is thine name, kinsman?"

He looked a little oddly at me, probably for my speech pattern, but brushed it off.

"Ralof, brother. Yours?"

I looked him in the eyes and revealed to him a little amount of my nature, letting my eyes assume a slight red glow.

"Vitus."

He looked a little unnerved by my eyes, but he seemed to accept it. As we stood and waited our turn, I spoke to him again.

"What is thine plan for escaping our present predicament?"

Ralof looked around a little and then turned to me.

"Find a distraction and run to the tower to our hind right. It will be tricky, but I think we can pull it off."

I looked around and mapped the place in my mind. Four archers in the tower he mentioned, six in one to our hind left and more than twenty imperial soldiers in this courtyard alone. I searched my mind for a possible distraction, when suddenly a flash in my head gave me the answer.

A great big shadow with glowing, red eyes that promised destruction upon all. Fire and stones falling from the sky. And then I saw some of the Imperials I had seen here engulfed in fire.

My eyes opened, once again the human blue they previously were. I leant over to Ralof again.

"Our distraction will be hither in but a few more moments."

Ralof looked at me with confusion.

"You truly mean that?"

I looked him in the eyes again, this time with my blue ones.

"Truly, I dost."

Ralof seemed a little suspicious, but nodded and started writhing his hands around in his bindings slightly, so as to not alert the soldiers behind us. I simply yanked my arms apart in one, smooth move and pulled my arms back together, so as to appear tied.

Ralof looked at my wrists with wide eyes, but started working harder to escape his ties. I patiently waited. Until I heard a great, booming roar from the sky.

I smiled wickedly, making sure to hide it from anyone who was watching.

I felt the destructive urges of the great, magnificent beast flying towards us, it's desires to kill and devour clearly ingrained into my head. Ralof was almost frightened to the point of soiling himself, I noticed, but very quickly regained his composure. I had to admit that he was very admirable for a human being.

The massive creature landed on the tower right behind the executioner and looked down on us. I swore for a second that I felt his eyes in me. Not looking **at** me, but **into my very soul**.

I quickly grabbed Ralof and jumped the roughly thirty feet between us and the door to the tower he had mentioned in one single motion. When we barged through the door, Ralof was scampering about, trying to gather his bearing. I grabbed him by the arm and slowly, but steadily, raised him from the ground and held him there for a few seconds before he nodded at me and I let go.

I looked out and saw that, had I not acted, we would have been burnt to cinders before we could have shouted " **DRAGON!** ". Ralof ran to the door and called out for his comrades to get in here with us.

"COME ON, WE DON'T HAVE ALL DAY! MOVE IT, FRIENDS!"

I started walking up the stairs, and suddenly, the dragon burst through the wall and blasted away some Imperials with his fiery breath. I quickly jumped back, remembering all too well the ungodly sensation of being burnt, which was especially excruciating to me in my state of existence.

Once the dragon was gone and some of the fires had died down, I went back to the hole the dragon had made. Ralof came running up behind me and looked out. He then looked to me.

"See the inn on the other side? Jump through the roof and keep going! GO! WE'LL FOLLOW WHEN WE CAN!"

He yelled at me and clapped my shoulder. I nodded and jumped out of the hole, enjoying the sensation of being midair for just a second before I landed in the destroyed inn and rolled through the second story, all the way over to another hole that led outside, and I slid right through it.

Dumping out of the inn, I saw a man being burnt by the dragon and a boy in the arms of an elder, screaming for his father in despair.

My heart ached for him for less than a second, though it definitely hurt.

I ran over to the boy, grabbed his head and turned it to myself.

"Look me in the eyes!"

The boy was in tears and sobbed, but looked into my eyes nonetheless.

I willed up my hypnotic stare and looked long and hard into his unfocused gaze.

"Thou shalt be fine. Thy father perished into perdition, but thou shalt recover and ascend to become a man worthy of him one day."

The little boy looked dazed, but nodded slightly until he fell asleep, his little mind tired from the abusive presence of my powers and potency of my mind. The older man looked at me with confusion, but I stood up and started running. The Nord from earlier, who sent me to my execution, was running towards a collection of burning houses, sword in hand. I easily caught up to him and followed him.

He looked back and shouted over his shoulder.

"STILL ALIVE, PRISONER? KEEP CLOSE TO ME IF YOU WANT TO STAY THAT WAY!"

I nodded and kept running. We went past the majority of the Imperials remaining, who were gathered to try and fight the dragon and maybe even kill it. I just shook my head as I ran. They had no idea what they were up against.

The Nord Imperial soldier led me to a keep, most likely used as a prison. I saw Ralof come running towards another door in the keep we were headed for.

"IT'S YOU AND ME, PRISONER. STAY CLOSE!"

I kept running until the guy I followed noticed Ralof.

"RALOF! YOU DAMNED TRAITOR. OUT OF MY WAY!"

Ralof laughed slightly and shouted back to him.

"WE'RE ESCAPING, HADVAR! YOU'RE NOT STOPPING US THIS TIME!"

The Nord, now identified as Hadvar seemed enraged at his shouting, but seemed to have more pressing matters. Maybe it had something to do with the dragon flying above, raining destruction down on everyone.

"FINE. I HOPE THAT DRAGON TAKES YOU ALL TO SOVNGARDE."

They crossed each other and kept running. I turned and followed Ralof, leaving Hadvar to escape by himself. Ralof looked to me with a smile and we stormed towards the big building.

"COME ON, INTO THE KEEP!"

And into the keep, we went.


	2. Chapter 2

The keep was well lit. It almost made me flinch with the torch that was placed right next to the entryway, but the Beast in me had long been accustomed to the presence of flames.

Ralof ran over to a dead man lying in the circular room. He crouched down and checked for a pulse. Apparently he found none, because he closed his eyes and said a prayer for his fallen comrade, clearly a Stormcloak from his uniform. After, he looked over to me, and somberly spoke.

"Grab Gunjar's gear. He won't be needing it anymore."

I walked over to Ralof and put my hand on his shoulder.

"I dost not take that which doth belong to mine companions. I find it abhominable."

He looked at me a little bewildered, but seemingly glad that I had such honor.

"Well, then let us g-"

Ralof was abruptly cut off when we heard the footsteps of two people coming, along with their chatter. He looked to me and I quickly leapt to cover beside the door. He followed suit and took the other side.

The voices grew louder and as the people came in through the door, we quickly dispatched them.

Ralof had his axe, which he deftly hacked through the neck of a man, clearly Imperial by his appearance and armor. The other, a woman of seemingly higher rank, if one were to judge by the armor, was mine for the taking. I expertly grabbed her by the armor and the wrist that would go for her sword.

I looked into her eyes for a brief instant, before I struck, fast like an arrow. My upper gums ached with anticipation of nourishment as my maxillary canines grew into wickedly sharp fangs. I bit, clenching my jaws tight and feeling, with relief, the warm, wet ecstasy, with a taste to rich that it wouldn't compare to any food a mortal consumed.

I felt lightheaded as I drank, savoring the sweet taste and the feeling of high that came with it, a feeling so strong, so potent and so good that no skooma or moonsugar could ever compare. I also felt my strength slowly return. I had been parched, but now I felt I could once again start on building my strength. When I was done with her, not a single drop of blood remained in her body.

I turned my head again to Ralof, who looked concerned and had his axe ready. I spoke to him to calm him down.

"I hope thou doth not think lesser of me. Verily, thou think me a monster. But I swear to never harm thee. 'Tis not mine way."

He still looked suspicious, but started rummaging the corpse of the headless man for something. He looked to me and asked me to look through the woman's pockets for a key. I found it in no time and went over to the iron gate that blocked our plan of escape.

We made our way through a series of rooms and corridors, fighting Imperials and meeting with other Stormcloaks. I had taken to a set of light, Imperial armor. It fit me well, and I was a little nostalgic to wear the Empire's equipment again after centuries, but I did not dwell on it. I had grabbed a longbow and a quiver of numerous arrows. On my hip rested a sword, forged for the Imperial armies. As we made our way through the keep, I fed on those I could, when only Ralof was about. The remainder, I simply slashed in two, sometimes horizontally, sometimes vertically.

With my speed and strength restored to higher levels than before, I found my enemies falling one by one, all with single slashes from my deadly blade. There was blood everywhere, my attack fast and strong, sending blood flying through the air. It wasn't long before I got used to the scent of delicious, fresh blood all around me, and my hunger soothed when my tongue wiped some of it off my blade. When no one looked, of course.

However, our triumphs were not to last. As we made our way deeper, and into caves long forgotten, we came upon a den of the vilest creatures I had ever lain eyes upon. The haired, many-legged, many-eyed, filthy creatures I learnt from Ralof were called Frostbite spiders, due to their venom chilling the very skin it came into contact with. Attacking with my bow from afar, my mind was overwhelmed with the fear I held for spiders, only much greater to accommodate their size. Two of them were times larger than myself.

As we moved on, the disgusting and nightmarish creatures far behind us, we came upon a bear. One which I merely walked past with Ralof behind me. The bear was a male, as opposed to Ralof referring to him as 'her'. I merely glanced at him and willed my Beast up close to the surface so I could channel it through my eyes to subdue him when he moved to attack us.

Once we came outside, I felt the same dark and malignant presence I had felt earlier, when the dragon had peered into me. I fell to the ground to escape notice, and Ralof did as I.

The mighty dragon flew right overhead, towards some mountains to the north. As he got farther away, I felt the sensation lift. When I stood back up, I looked around to heighten my navigational awareness. Ralof watched the dragon fly over a tall mountain and disappear, and then turned to me.

"I can't believe the stories are true! Dragons! The harbingers of the End Times!"

He looked wondered, but quickly regained his composure.

"I have family in a little town, not far from here. Gerdur, in Riverwood. Runs the mill there. You're welcome to join me there."

I looked at him and smiled, but shook my head.

"No, Ralof. I thank thee for thine help, but I must continue on mine own path. I fare thee well and hope thine family safety."

I stretched out my hand to him, and he took it, shaking it as we looked into each other's eyes.

Without hesitation, I started speaking to him, but not in the way one usually would. I forced my mind into his and adjusted what I saw.

"You were taken to Helgen to be executed. You were in a cart with Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak and a horse thief from Rorikstead, a Nord by the name of Lokir, which you found out when the lists were checked. You never saw me, you never heard my name and you never met me. You were on your own until you met up with your comrades, and when you went into the caves, you singlehandedly defeated many Frostbite spiders and snuck past a bear. You barely made it out alive. You have to go to your family in Riverwood and tell them what happened."

I purposefully changed my way of speaking in a hope engrave the memories deeper into his mind, so as to make a lesser chance of them being uncovered.

When he nodded and turned around, jogging slightly down a beaten path, one that I presumed would lead me to Riverwood if I followed him. When he was out of sight, I sat down, the harsh sun glaring down on me. I started feeling sore where the sun shone on me, but I endured it. I looked towards the mountains, past which the dragon flew.

I had my new beginning.

I would make sure to make great use of it.


	3. Chapter 3

The night had descended over Tamriel by the time I got to the nearest town, the town of Falkreath. When I came up to the gate, a guardsman approached me.

"Have you by chance seen a dog around? The blacksmith Lot has lost him, and there is a reward for finding him."

I shook my head at the guardsman.

"I'm sorry. I've seen a few wolves, but no dogs," I said to him.

I figured that speaking the way everyone else did would bring me less attention, but I was still new at the funny dialect. The guard seemed to be irritated, as he sighed loudly and returned to his post. I walked into the small city, ever watchful of potential dinner.

I had regained much strength from all the people in Helgen, but I was still hungry, and the hungrier I am, the less control I have. I also knew I had to regain the rest of my powers, as they required me to be in good shape and well fed. Months without feeding were painful and agonizing, but it allows you to appreciate the powers you have and the blood you have to drink as one of the night-stalkers.

I had heard of a powerful clan of Molag Bal's children residing in Skyrim for centuries, if not millennia. The details weren't very specific. I had trouble holding in a snort.

 _Vampires? Vampires. VAMPIRES. Such a curious word. I wonder how it came to be. Blood-Drinker, I understand. They drink blood. But VAMPIRE. Though it does sound awe-inspiring, it is also quite… I do not know. Excessive? Exaggerated? I do not know._

I spotted a small tavern and headed straight for it. I knew I had to feed, or else I might kill innocents later in my hunger. Not that the thought of killing innocents really bothered me that much, but because my lack of empathy disturbed me to no end. I wanted to stay connected to my rational mind. If I fell to the Beast, I would never return.

There was plenty of dinner in the tavern. I spotted a few young women that would do nicely to satiate me for the night. Walking up to them, I excluded my unholy charm and put on a lady-killer smile. The women swooned and were easy enough to lure to a room I rented. Of course, nothing happened, except for my feeding. After an hour or so, I left the tavern, well sated. The women were still alive, but drunk on the ecstasy that came with being bitten by me.

The energy in the blood of those two women was enough to let me walk the entire distance to the city of Markarth in a single night. At dawn, I sought refuge in a cave, previously inhabited by bandits.

It was now inhabited by my and roughly twenty corpses, most of which were drained of blood.

It wasn't really that the sun hurt me, more like it was severely irritating. When I walked in daylight, my body started aching and I couldn't perform as well. Not that it mattered much. Up to this point, I had never met something that was enough to actually threaten my existence.

One, though, the sun would have burned me to cinder within seconds. The sun was once the greatest bane of my existence, along with fire and holy energy. Now it just hurt me slightly and fire was completely ineffective against me. I could walk into temples, but I would never, even after the countless centuries I had outlived, touch a shrine or an amulet.

As dusk approached, I felt myself stir from my restless slumber, plagued by nightmares and horrific memories. When I sat up and began to gather my things, I felt a presence nearby, one that was unnatural. One that was not alive.

Just like me.

I whipped around, my bare chest and arms bulging with muscles tensed for combat. My fingernails grew and became feral claws, and my eyes began glowing red. As my vision changed and brightened in the near dark cave, I spotted a robed figure, eyes burning bright with a ferocious feeling of predatory instincts hiding behind a human disguise. I felt my undead muscles tighten and prepare to strike, should the figure make any too sudden movements.

When I neither said, nor did anything, the robed individual grabbed the hood covering it's head and pulled it down. There stood a woman, clearly not human, but not very far from it. She slowly raised her hands with her palms towards me, signaling no hostility. She started speaking in a language I had not heard in what seemed like eons.

" _Ati Me Peta Babka_. _Peta Babkama Luruba Anaku_."

I recognized it immediately, and answered almost as quickly.

" _Ni Wassaru Za~e, Mi._ _Ezebu Atu Mitu._ "

The woman started walking towards me, but I let my claws recede into nails once more and let my eyes burn brighter than before.

"I said, leave me, woman! You are not welcome here!"

This did not faze her, but she started speaking as if she accused me of something.

"Hearken at least my words, Gatekeeper, that I may impart knowledge onto you."

She was persistent, but I sat and let her speak. She took the hint.

"I presume you are in search of vampires in Skyrim?"

I nodded.

"Then I will tell you, on one condition."

"Tell me what?"

"Where to find the center of vampires in Skyrim."

I perked up at this, my complete attention on her.

"I am listening."

She didn't show it, but I knew she was smirking on the inside.

"There is a cave, south of the harbor town of Dawnstar, called Dimhollow. Within this cave was carved a crypt, and I need you to retrieve what is hidden within the center of the crypt. If you do as I ask, I won't even have to tell you how to get to the place you seek. You will be led there."

She turned and pulled up her hood and started running at impressive speeds, probably to get as far away from me as possible. I looked down at my abdomen and started caressing my muscled core, a habit I had no idea when I had picked up. I grabbed my gear, now replaced with traveler's clothes and a sturdy cloak. I only carried a sword with me to scare off potential bandits and muggers. I was clumsy with weaponry and I always ended up falling on my own weapons, which had led to more than a few mind-boggling sessions of memory-manipulations with many individuals. I remembered one time when I had fallen on my sword with my back first, though I still did not know how it happened. A nice woman who had sheltered me was out of her mind when I simply stood back up and struggled to reach the grip sticking out of my back to pull it out. It took me several minutes to figure out I had to push out the blade instead.

I took to the city to hire a carriage to Dawnstar. It only took me fifty gold pieces, called Septim in this day and age, and the promise of a few bottles of mead. The ride was about a day and then I needed rest for the day in Dawnstar.

It took me five hours from Dawnstar to reach the cave the woman had spoken about. I had already figured out why she had come to me, though. She was a member of the society of blood-drinkers in Skyrim, and if she had been able to manipulate another undead into doing her dirty work for her, she would rise in rank for her cunning.

Too bad for her that I would eat her sometime in the future.

I came up on Dimhollow, and immediately noticed the smell of human blood. Someone had died inside, and recently. As I came up on the entrance, I also saw old and frozen blood on the ground. Lighting up my eyes with the enhanced darkvision they gave me, I entered the cave.

Sneaking along, I occulted myself and stuck to the darkest shadows. I saw two people inside, along with a black, grotesque mutt. It had no pulse and excluded no warmth, so I could only assume it was undead, similar to vampires. As I walked silently in the shadows, I saw a man lying on the ground, dead from a slash across his throat. His dead eyes looked up at me, as if accusing me for all his misery. I recognized his style of attire as a Vigilant of Stendarr, a person who hunts down monsters and Daedra worshippers. Looking down to his neck, I saw an amulet of Stendarr, and I had to look away, not because I couldn't look at it, but because it reminded me of things I would rather forget.

I snuck up to a small gate, and in a show of dark power, slipped into one shadow, and out of one on the other side of the gate. I continued my journey towards the center of the cavern and snuck past many vampires and their minions.

I could only deduce that the woman, who even knew my native tongue, knew what I was capable of, and wanted to be the first to accomplish what all these other undead were here to do.

I came upon a room with a blood-drinker fighting the largest Frostbite spider I had seen yet, and the fear it brought up in me had me just run at my fastest past the combatants and open the door on the other side, go through, and close it, all in the span of a blink of an eye.

In the next room, I found a pedestal with a scroll on it. I opened it and looked at it, only to find it a scroll to conjure up a fireball. I rolled it back together and put it in my leather pack, under my brown, hooded cloak. I heard some people speaking and started towards a balcony, from which I could see what must have been the crypt the mysterious vampire woman spoke about. Around the center, where another pedestal stood, were two vampires, with a human man, most likely a thrall, standing watch.

I didn't focus on their conversation, but I heard some snippets about some lord by the name of Harkon. I seemed to recall hearing about a king once, by the same name. Apparently, he ruled most of Skyrim back in the day, but that was all the way back in the First Era. Then it dawned on me, without intending the pun.

Harkon the king had become a vampire, and something close to him, or maybe even he himself, was buried in this crypt.

My interest was suddenly piqued. If I could find this Harkon, his blood would be of exceptional power. And if he were there I would feast on him instead of all these petty little vampires. Doing so would definitely restore more of my power than the others would.

I put one foot on the edge of the balcony, focused on one of the arches in the center of the room and, leaning over the edge, I pushed off with all my strength. I flew through the air and my feet struck the top of the arch silently. Sitting there, obscured in darkness and stalking my next prey, I slowly walked in a low stance across the arches, following the male vampire I could see. He seemed like the strongest in the room.

I came up on an arch right above him. I deeply hoped that my power to cling to walls had returned. Slowly, I leant over and let my feet find their way to the bottom of the arch… Or, that was what I hoped would happen.

I fell straight down, landing solidly on my face with a loud thump.

The vampire I had tried to sneak up on turned around and hissed at me, baring his fangs and drawing a steel war-axe. I quickly rolled out of the way of his strike, chips of stone flying about and hitting me in the face. Without losing momentum, I spun over my hand and landed on my feet. I lunged for him and punched him in the face so hard he went flying into one of the columns near the entry of this circular area. I heard his neck, skull, shoulders and back all break and snap into pieces on impact.

When he fell from it, he didn't get back up.

The other vampire, the woman, ran up to me with a steel sword. I quickly grabbed her hand and, with every ounce of strength in my arm, shoved my stretched hand into her chest and grabbed her heart. I pulled it out in one swift motion and saw her crumple, no longer having the mystical center of her pathetic powers. Looking at the cold, un-beating heart I threw it over the edge of this area and into a lake below.

That only left me with the thrall. The Nord who charged me was clearly still enthralled, despite his master being dead. He charged me, far slower and more clumsily than the vampires. Within the blink of an eye, I ran up to him and grabbed his sword arm with my left hand, the back of his neck with my other and bit into his carotid artery. I drank him dry in less than seconds, but my hunger still wasn't sated.

I went back over to the crushed vampire and tore off his head before drinking straight from the artery like a straw.

As I stood up, I saw some water on the floor and saw my own reflection in it. I wasn't the man I had been, and I knew that. But, seeing the image of a bloodthirsty, brutal, merciless beast instead of myself… It shocked me, but I shook it off. I knew what had happened to me couldn't be undone. The Defiler had made sure of that.

I walked over to the center of the room, to the pedestal. In my millennia of experience with magic, I could easily deduce that the pedestal was really a lock. A lock to a seal of some sort. And, judging by the dried blood on it, it was a blood seal.

 _Not very common, even in my day, but most efficient._

I laid my hand on the pedestal and immediately, a spike shot up through my hand. I didn't flinch, as I had suspected something like this might happen. A purple glow started emanating from the ground, a lot like fire, actually. It didn't harm me, as I passed right through it. I saw some braziers around the room.

I went to work on it immediately.


	4. Chapter 4

When I pushed the last brazier in place, the floor started shaking. Thinking nothing of it, I walked closer to the center again, only to be shocked when the entire floor sank eight feet. I fell down on my backside as I lost my balance. I kept looking at the great monolith-like object rose, or sank, or whatever.

I laid there, waiting for something to happen. When nothing did, I stood back up and examined the structure. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, except that I knew the front was a door. There were small cracks on the side, indicating the front could be removed. As my hand started running over the door, it shook and started pulling down into the ground. Taking my hand back, I saw the front sink to reveal a woman. A stunningly beautiful woman, cold as the stone she was surrounded by and as dead as myself. Her ebony hair was braided and her pale, smooth face endowed with petite and attractive lips was making something stir in my chest. I could feel her energies welling up from her slumber, which I could feel to have been deep.

She suddenly fell out of the monolith, and I caught her and kept her standing until she regained the ability to stand on her own. Her eyes were fluttering and behind the lids were drowsy eyes burning like molten gold. Her gaze sleepily flittered around the room until it landed on me. Immediately I felt as if her stare was piercing my soul, or whatever was left of it.

Grimacing, probably at the stiffness of her limbs, she stood back up and stretched. She released a sigh and I heard some of her joints pop. She looked suspiciously at me and started speaking to me.

"Unh... where is... who sent you here?"

"No one. I came here on my own volition, though I will admit it was a vampire who pointed out the place," I said to her, with a little amusement in my voice.

She looked at me, then looked around and took in her surroundings. I did the same and then looked back at her.

"So why were you locked away so tightly, anyway? It's not like unlocking the place from the outside is difficult, but you definitely couldn't get out."

She looked back at me and replied.

"That's... complicated. And I'm not totally sure if I can trust you. But if you want to know the whole story, help me get back to my family's home."

I considered it for a second, and then remembered what the vampire woman had said when she visited.

 _You will be led there._

I smiled at her.

"Of course, m'lady. What kind of man would I be if I turned down your request?"

She smiled a tightlipped smile at me.

"My family used to live on an island to the west of Solitude. I would guess they still do. By the way... my name is Serana. Good to meet you."

"Vitus Blood-Bane. At your service."

I bowed as I introduced myself and when I stood back up, I managed to catch just a small amount of fluster on her face before she donned a mask of neutrality.

I started walking towards the other end of the circular platform, opposite the way I came. Serana, as she was called, trailed slightly behind me, making sure she did not get too close to the stranger I was.

"You know the way out?" she quipped from behind me.

I snorted before I answered.

"No, but I have a feeling this is the right way."

As we continued through the dungeon, it turned out I was right. We got closer to an exit, I could feel the air getting less stuffed and cleaner. We ran into several skeletons and draugr, but none of them were problematic. As it turns out, Serana was a considerable necromancer, as well as dabbling in cryomancy and shock magic. She handled herself just fine.

The only trouble we had was in the final room, where we disturbed the rest of a mighty Deathlord. The mighty Thu'um of the ancient Nord blasted us away, and if it weren't for my enhanced speed, strength and resilience, I would likely have perished in the battle.

Funnily enough, the draugr only went for me, whilst it completely ignored Serana who shot it repeatedly with ice spikes.

When I finally felled the ancient with a mighty blow from my fist, I stood over it and looked down upon it. Serana came up to me and looked at me funnily, but I didn't move.

"What is it? You think we're lost?" she asked me.

I shook my head and looked at her.

"We are both undead, and so is he. But why do we get to keep our youthful bodies and our functioning minds, when poor sods like him turn out like this? Shrunken, shriveled, possessed and with no mind of his own? It doesn't seem fair."

She looked a little surprised at me and stammered to find an excuse.

"Luck, I suppose," she said, "Or it just might be the way it is. Who decided we should be Nords when others should be Altmer, or Dwemer?"

I looked at her.

"Good question."

With that, I turned to a place from which I heard a whisper, one I had never before heard in my existence. I voiced my concerns to my new companion.

"Do you hear that? That chanting?"

Serana looked around, bewildered.

"I can't hear anything. Must be your imagination."

I started slowly walking over to the place from which I heard the chanting. It grew louder and louder, the closer I got to it. When I looked to the source of the sound, it was a wall. A half-circular wall, with strange markings etched into it. I took a closer look, and found the markings to resemble great talons more than anything else, arranged in what could only be described as letters. The script was foreign to me, but something about it felt familiar. Like I deep down knew what it was, despite not realizing it.

"Vitus? What've you found?" I heard Serana call to me from where I left her.

I barely heard her, and even that which I heard, I did not register. Something about a particular few signs on the wall seemed appealing, like reading them would do me good. I looked closer, and as I studied the markings, suddenly the chanting stopped and I realized that I knew what it said on the wall.

"Here lies the body of Svolo, who possessed strength to kill a Dragon but not the Stamina to kill many," I muttered as I read the markings on the wall.

Serana came up to me and looked at me funnily.

"Vitus? What did you just say?" Serana asked me.

I turned my head to her and said it aloud, again.

"Here lies the body of Svolo, who possessed strength to kill a Dragon but not the Stamina to kill many."

She just frowned and stared at me.

"In Tamrielic, please."

I was confused, and looked at her like she was mad. Then it dawned on me(again, not intentional). I closed my eyes and focused for a second while I tried to clear my mind, before I opened them again and looked at the strange wall. I no longer understood what it said, but I remembered it. I turned to face her again.

"Better?"

She nodded, but still looked at me funnily.

"Yeah. Better. But what on Nirn was that?" she asked.

I looked the wall over again, but shrugged and started towards the exit.

"Powerful magic. I have never encountered anything like it before, and I have roamed most of Tamriel."

"Well, how long have you roamed Tamriel?" she asked me.

I shrugged again.

"Don't know, really. Hard to tell. I have never stayed in one place for long, after I became undead. I was born a while before I met Eplear, who united all the Bosmer in Valenwood. I don't know how long ago that is now."

Serana raised a brow.

"Eplear? That means you predate the First Era?" she asked with disbelief clear in her voice.

"I suppose. It's not something I keep track of," I stated, "Want to keep moving?"

I reached the exit and pulled a chain on the right side of the corridor. The gate opened and as I stepped out, I regretted not leaving Dawnstar when it was still day.

The sun was shining brightly, and I pulled up my hood with an annoyed sigh, something I also heard Serana do behind me.


	5. Chapter 5

It took us seven hours to reach Dawnstar again, what with the sun slowing us both down and a few bandits and frost trolls ambushing us on the way. We made short work of the trolls, but the bandits were tougher. I was feeling more tired than I had days ago, and somehow, my powers wouldn't follow my commands.

My blows were weaker, my resilience looser and my speed greatly diminished. When I got to one of the bandits, I tore out his throat with my teeth and started drinking. For a very brief time, my powers returned slightly, but they quickly faded again.

Serana seemed to notice my weakness and confusion, and quickly finished the bandits with her elven-made blade and her deadly spells. After the final bandit fell, she came over to me.

"Are you all right, Vitus?" she asked of me.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," I muttered and walked over to a tree and sat under the shades.

The aches in my body were becoming stronger by the minute, and I needed to sit. The shade eased my pain, but I was still sore all over. Serana, despite my knowledge that she felt the same to at least an extent, looked fine, if a little weary. I stood up and went to move on from our current location, but as I left the shade and entered the sunlight, my sleeve caught on fire and my arm felt like it was going to melt.

I screamed in pain and threw myself back into the shadows and started rolling in the snow, quickly putting out the fire. Serana was astonished and spooked by my display of hurt. I sat back up and checked my arm beneath my now burnt sleeve. It was completely charred and still hurt more than I had felt in a long time. Closed my eyes and focused on healing my arm, which was a long and arduous process.

Serana had sat down next to me and was ever vigilant of threats that might lurk around. She pulled out a little vial from one of the pouches on her belt. She held it out to me and I immediately knew what it was. I grabbed it and gulped it down in an instant, the pain still searing in my arm as my flesh mended itself slowly, but surely. I could taste that the blood in it was specially prepared. It wasn't very delicious, but it felt very nutritious, and my healing seemed to act slightly faster.

I looked out into the light, and then looked to Serana with an apologetic expression on my face.

"Sorry, but I won't be going anywhere for a while."

She just closed her eyes and shook her head.

"Don't be. You're just weaker to sunlight than most of us," she said with a tone in her voice that said that she wasn't angry, that it wasn't my fault.

With that, I leant up against the tree under which I sat and started slumbering, conserving my energy for when I could utilize it properly.

.

.

.

.

When night fell and the sun set, my eyes shot open and I stood up immediately, my arm fully healed and my body in perfect shape. Serana was sleeping right next to where I had slept, sitting under another tree. I crouched down before her and gently shook her shoulders.

"Serana?" I asked her, trying to get her to awaken, "Seranaaaaa?"

Her eye lids slowly opened and her unfocused eyes roamed around a little before landing on me. I felt my chest tighten up, but I knew it wasn't something physical.

She grunted a little when shew used the tree behind her to stand up, as if it was tough. When she was standing, I shot her a questioning look, but she shrugged and started back down the mountain.

.

.

.

Serana and I came to Dawnstar around mid night. I walked over to a man who was standing next to a medium sized boat.

"Good night, friend. I should like to discuss a trip with you," I inclined to him.

The man sized me up and looked at my burnt sleeve.

"Two hundred Septim, and I'll take you anywhere her on the northern coast," the gruff man uttered with a deep, groveling voice.

I pulled a sizeable pouch out of my belt, and handed it to him. I watched Serana out of the corner of my eye and saw her confusion.

The man grinned when he saw the contents of the pouch. He closed the pouch, looked at me, and extended his hand to me. I smiled charmingly and shook it. Serana and I boarded the ship and sat down a little distance from the man.

Serana whispered to me silently enough that the man couldn't hear.

"I thought he said Septim, not pebbles," she said with an accusing tongue. I shook my head.

"I don't have two hundred Septim, and I know the trip is worth only fifty," I responded, rather matter-of-factly.

Serana squinted her eyes in confusion. "How so?"

"I was a sailor, once. First mate of a Redguard , went by the name Rodaron Klevja," I told her. "My captain charged less, and that was from Stros M'Kai to Rihad."

She looked at me with eyes slightly wide in surprise.

"You were a pirate?" she asked with disbelief clear in her voice.

"No, not by a longshot," I said whilst slightly chuckling. "We didn't attack and plunder other vessels. We were mostly hired as high-security convoys. Pretty much every member was a former elite fighter, either from a fighting ring or from an army. I was one of the two mages aboard the ship. _The Esmeralda_. A beauty, she was," I finished with a smile on my lips and my eyes closed in bliss memory.

I felt the sailor I hired step aboard the small boat, as the gentle rocking was abruptly disturbed.

"We're leaving now," came his unsavorily rough voice. "Where do you want to go?"

I propped open an eye and looked to Serana. She took the hint quickly and pointed it out on the man's map. For some reason, I saw, his eyes widened and he looked at us with horror.

"B-b-b-b-but, th-th-that island is h-h-h-haunted!" he stammered wildly, seemingly about to panic.

I looked at the man and was annoyed with his cowardice. I let my inner Beast rise to the surface and forced all his emotions down from the high they had reached. As Serana looked bewildered at his abnormal behavior, the man apathetically went about his work and I sat back and closed my eyes again.

I felt Serana sit down across from me.

"So, you actually do have some of our higher powers. I thought you were an ordinary vampire," Serana muttered, so as to not let the human man we chartered let know of our conversation.

I once again opened an eye, looked at her for a second, then closed it again before I spoke.

"I'm not a vampire."


	6. Chapter 6

I felt a small pang of Serana's shock. It seemed some of my own higher powers were slowly returning to me as I meditated. After a small, silent pause, I heard Serana's voice once again.

"But… if you're not a vampire… then what are you?"

I could hear the confusion in her voice, and feel it in her soul.

"I don't know. But I wasn't created like you are," I muttered.

"I wasn't created like other vampires, either," she voiced with anger and offence.

I opened both my eyes to look at her.

"So you weren't offered to Molag Bal in order for someone, whom I presume to be your father, to gain _immeasurable power_? And immortality?"

Serana was shocked, and she clearly showed it on her face. But I didn't let up there.

"And every time it's the 20th of Evening Star, it's technically your birthday as a vampire."

Serana looked a little hurt at the fact being mentioned, but she quickly washed away the emotion from her face.

"So, what are you really?," she continued her questioning.

"I don't know, but I've taken to calling myself a Cainite."

"Cainite? Why?"

I closed my eyes again.

"I needed a word to distinguish myself from _vampires_ , because I'm not like you, or your kind. And when I first saw your kind arise, I saw many similarities. But I have many differences, as well," I announced.

Serana was silent. She sat completely still and didn't move in the slightest. The she quietly muttered: "Such as being burned by sunlight, instead of just being weakened?"

I nodded my head slowly with closed eyes.

I suddenly felt the wind pick up the sails as we started moving in a rush of gale. I silently enjoyed the sensation, and just lay there in my half-sitting position. I could feel Serana's hesitation to ask more things from me, but I was grateful when she didn't press the matters any further.

.

.

.

The journey was roughly three to four hours, and it was almost day-break when I felt the characteristic bump of a ship hitting shore. I deftly got up and flipped over the edge of the small ship. Serana's eyes slightly widened in surprise at my energy this close to daylight.

"Well, you're energetic."

It wasn't much, just a statement in an almost monotone voice. I looked over to Serana and gave her a half shrug.

The man we hired to take us here quietly and readily left as well. _Seems my powers aren't at the same level as they once were. No matter, I had predicted this. Besides, if my senses serve me right, which they almost always do, all the vampires in here should be enough to at least restore a somewhat decent portion of my powers._

We started up a small bridge, which led up to a gate to the gargantuan castle which lay before us. I whistled lightly in slight awe. Serana came up on my right and looked up at the magnificent structure.

"Home sweet… castle," she joked, chuckling a little. She then turned her head to face me. "Hey, so, before we go in there…"

I was curious as to what might be coming next.

"Yes? Is something the matter, Serana?" I inquired of her in a low and gentle voice.

She looked appreciative of the concern I held for her.

"I think so. And thanks for asking. I wanted to thank you for getting me this far. But after we get in there, I'm going to go my own way for a while. I think... Once we're inside, just keep quiet for a bit. Let me take the lead."

I looked at her for a second, but nodded and kept walking towards the entrance, Serana by my right side. As we neared the gate, an old man started yelling something about 'Lady Serana' being back, and for someone to open the gate. As we entered, I heard the man mutter something to himself, but I didn't really pay attention to him.

I was more focused with blocking out the stench of decades old blood and filth which permeated the halls I entered. I felt the urge to throw up my last meal, a most nourishing young maiden in Dawnstar, as my stomach convulsed at the putrid scent.

Serana seemed to be used to the smell, though if it had been like this forever, I could see how. Gained my bearings and tried my hardest to block out my sense of smell and focus on my hearing and sight instead.

That didn't prove to be wise, either.

I could hear the sound of gnashing teeth, flesh which was deftly chewed, slurping from someone drinking from a cup and someone from a person. I could hear the growling of death hounds I had encountered in Dimhollow, and a hammer banging away at a forge. I heard muttering everywhere and I could hear many heartbeats, most of them weak and fading.

I stopped focusing my senses and just went with it. If Serana could, so could I.

We started into the main hall, but we were stopped by an Altmer vampire clad in a greyish light armor, similar to that of all the vampires in Dimhollow, and the woman that had tried to trick me to do her dirty work.

However, I would not be played, and no one could know about me, much less know my native tongue. She would die, whether I do it, or I get someone to do it for me.

Best case scenario, I would eat her.

The Altmer saw me first and proceeded to try and scold me. "How dare you trespass here!" He then saw Serana standing to my right, slightly behind me, half-clad in shadows. "Wait...Serana? Is that truly you? I cannot believe my eyes!" He then turned around and ran into the main hall, onto a balcony. "My lord! Everyone! Serana has returned!"

I turned to her, raised eyebrows and an amused look on my face. Serana saw this, and swatted me on the arm.

"Don't give me that look. I'm just expected, apparently."

She couldn't help it, and cracked a little smile when my funny looking face got to her. We walked into the hall side by side, and I immediately regretted the decision. The foul smell struck me in the face like giant's club. I didn't visibly flinch, but I felt like I was going to die on the inside. All around, I saw vampires of all races and genders, feasting on corpses and live thralls, drinking blood from goblets and eating the flesh, in some cases.

I admit, I sometimes eat my prey as well, but only when I'm really, **really** hungry… Or when I want to make sure my opponent can never rise or resurrect, in any way, shape or form.

 _Or when I want more power._

The one thing that caught my eye, though, was a man of regal bearings, standing in the middle of the hall. He looked familiar, when I thought harder on it.

Serana and I walked down the stairs, and when we reached the middle of the hall, the man came to greet us. But I had a feeling we weren't the only ones he spoke to.

"I can't believe it," he muttered slightly, and then he spoke loudly, spreading his arms in a dramatic display. "My long-lost daughter returns at last. I trust you have my Elder Scroll?"

Serana looked sodden, but retaliated quickly. "After all these years, that's the first thing you ask me? Yes, I have the scroll."

The man didn't seem to take this very serious.

"Of course I'm delighted to see you, my daughter. Must I really say the words aloud? Ah, if only your traitor mother were here, I would let her watch this reunion before putting her head on a spike."

I flinched inside when he said this. _Bad blood, maybe? I did not intend that pun._

The man turned to me and looked me up and down, suspicion on his face, yet something else, as well… recognition.

"Now tell me, who is this stranger you… Balrir?"

I looked at the man, confused he would know such a long-forgotten name, and when I looked closer at the area around his eyes, his nose and some of his other facial features, I recognized him.

"Larkaeus?"

I looked at him, recognition evident in his face. His smile widened immensely, and he held out his arms as to embrace me.

"It has been many millennia, my friend!" I looked funnily at him.

"Millennia? Nooo, it can't have been more than a few centuries," I told him slowly, my mind reeling at this prospect. Harkon, however, seemed to realize something, and smiled brighter.

"You haven't kept up well with the times, my friend. We haven't seen each other for almost three thousand years!" Harkon exclaimed with a sort of malicious glee in his voice.

I saw Serana look funnily, curiously, at me. To the best of my ability, I could deduce that she was confused that her father knew me, and more than that, knew me as 'Balrir'. I turned my face back towards Larkaeus, and he grew a slightly sullen look on his face.

"I'm sorry to tell you, my friend, but my name is not Larkaeus, nor was it ever. My name is Harkon, and I am the lord of this court."

Meanwhile, Serana stood off to the side with a puzzled look all over her features.

"Father? Why did he call you Larkaeus?" she questioned her father, after which she turned to me. "And why did he call you Balrir?"

Harkon and I looked a little at each other, neither of us really knowing what to say, but Harkon took on a somewhat aloof profile when he spoke to her.

"This beast, Serana, is the monster that taught your mother and I much about our powers as vampires. I am powerful, rivalled by next to no one, but this man is at least twice the strength I am, if not thrice." Harkon seemed proud of me, like I was some prize for him to show off.

"I hate to inform you this, Harkon, but I am no longer the force you remember. My power has faded greatly since I last spoke with you, old friend." I spoke with an apologetic look on my face and a sorry tone in my voice.

I could have sworn that I saw a glint of greed, lust and jealousy in Harkon's eyes, even if for just an instant. His smile turned wicked, but no less wide.

"I see. Well, Balrir, or whatever name you go by now… you are more than welcome here in my castle for as long as you should need it, or want it. If you have need of anything, simply call for it, and my servants will provide it for you." He turned around and started walking towards a staircase, but not before he had taken something off Serana's back, a large scroll in a gold casing. I was still a little curious as to what was recorded on the scroll, but I didn't press it.

I turned to Serana and saw her looking after Harkon with a sad, yet also contemptuous, expression on her face.

"Serana?" I called in a low voice.

She responded immediately and turned her head towards me. The expression from earlier was gone, and replaced with it was a visage of something between stoic and joyed.

"Yes?"

I smiled at her.

"It was interesting, but I will be going now."

She looked a little sad, but seemed accepting.

"Of course. Where will you go?" she asked of me.

I thought for a little about my plans, but since I had discovered Harkon and his clan of vampires, my sole reason for coming to Skyrim was gone.

"Whiterun, I think. Or Riften. I'm not sure yet, because I never really set a destination," I explained. "I just walk."

She looked a little worried.

"Can I find you somehow? Or contact you, maybe?"

I looked around and found a pebble on the ground. I took it in my hand and grew a claw on my thumb, which I proceeded to use to carve the piece of rock to a crude sphere. I then took her hand, cut open her palm with a low apology, and dipped the pebble into the wound. I then extended my conscious into her body and forced her blood to heat up a little, and start flowing around the pebble. She winced a little, but stood otherwise still. After a few minutes like this, I took the small rock from her hand and brought her palm up to my mouth.

She blushed, a side-effect of the heated blood I was pumping around her body and her fluster as I kissed the cut, after which it rapidly closed. I looked her in the eye as she took back her hand, holding it carefully (and caringly?) with her other. I smiled, a gesture which she returned. Then I spoke up.

"I will keep this rock. You will always be able to feel it. You will know exactly which direction to go to find me. You might not know how far, but you can always find me, so long as I keep this."

She blushed a little more before the effects of my power directing hers faded, as did the color from her skin. I turned around and headed to the entrance, but I smelt something distinct, something I had smelt before.

I smiled wickedly, as my face was turned from Serana.

 _Come out, little spider._

I donned my previous mask of relaxation. I turned back to Serana and smiled when I passed her and headed into a room from which I felt the heat of a smelter.

Sure enough, I found a smithy. But I also found the little spider, that had whispered some small secrets in my ear.

The vampire woman from before, the one who pointed me to Dimhollow, and spoke to me in my native tongue, was standing leant up against a bookshelf filled with iron, leather and blacksmith's aprons. She smiled a toothy grin and pushed off the shelf and met my gaze.

"So, you did it," she began. "I knew you could. Like what you found?"

I looked around to check if anyone was around, and when I neither heard, nor saw anyone, I turned back to her.

I willed my eyes to glow and my claws to grow.

" **Most certainly.** "

The visage of her surprise, fear and panic was the last thing I ever saw of it. No one heard her screams of agony, and rarely had I been so glad that I could make a small area completely silent.


	7. Chapter 7

I slowly opened my eyes, my vision unfocused and blurry. I looked to my right, and lying in the bed next to me was a gorgeous woman, with waist-length, ebony hair, and a slightly pale rose skin color. Her beauty was stunning, and she laid there, sleeping soundly next to me. Naked. Running a hand through my hair, I ruffled it and pushed the sheets away as I stood up, the fresh morning breeze coming in the window tickling my bare body.

It had been centuries since it had felt cold, but now it felt like it was room temperature. As my cold, lifeless body shuffled towards the drawers, I heard the rustling of sheets and the small footsteps of the exquisite beauty sneaking up behind me and pressed her stark body flush against mine, whilst wrapping her arms around my chest.

"Come on, Cain. Come back to bed," her breathy, lusty voice tickled the back of my neck.

I chuckled.

"I am sorry, Emaliya, but I must go. I promised elder Aralya that I wouldst help her with her flowers and weeds in a lesser hour," I excused, putting on an open and breathy blouse in the purest white. Emaliya sighed and let go, letting me put on the rest of my clothing, consisting of tight trousers and leather boots. As I turned to her, she leant up to kiss me, and I leant down to return the favor.

It was heated, passionate and loving. As I held the woman in my arms, I couldn't help but thank Arkay in my mind that he would let me continue my existence, after my life was wrongfully taken by the Defiler, the King of Rape and Domination. Molag Bal.

As we separated, Emaliya smacked her lips a little, as if to better get a hold of a certain taste. After a little, she locked her gaze to mine.

"I can still taste it."

She reached her hand up to the right side of her throat, and I immediately recognized her meaning. My mood and face grew sullen and ashamed.

"I am sorry, my love. I did not mean it like that," I heard her voice in an apologetic tone, trying to cheer me up.

I turned to the window. I looked back at her over my shoulder.

"I will return at my best haste."

With that, I jumped out the window.

.

.

.

I was out in the woods near our settlement, where Emaliya and I had traveled to. It was in a remote part of Hammerfell, and I had met the young woman in a tavern in Stros M'Kai, the small, female Breton tricking men out of money with card tricks, pickpocketing and lures.

She had a knack for such things, and a little magic in the Restoration and Illusion schools of magic. I found her tricking men into believing their purses were filled with coin, when she had really swapped it out for a pouch filled with small pebbles.

At first, she tried to trick me as well, but when my senses proved far superior than her illusory gifts, she gave up. We saw each other steadily between my small voyages at sea, and we slowly fell in love with each other. It was a nice few years, but that came to an abrupt end when men tricked by her in the past came looking for her.

I took her and bolted, sailing from Stros M'Kai to the mainland, and running through deserts and oases, not stopping until we were three days away in Hammerfell.

Now, here we were. A small settlement on the border between Cyrodiil and Hammerfell, a small desert-woodland community we happened on. The people welcomed us as their own, and we were quickly peaceful villagers in this small society of no more than a hundred families.

I stood up from the tree stump I sat on, and started towards the edge of the forest, towards home.

The sight that greeted me was not one I had ever hoped to see.

Flames roared from houses, cattle was killed, and all over the place were dead bodies, the families brutally slaughtered and men, women and children all equally mutilated. There were more than two hundred men and women, all clad in armor and wielding weapons, roaming the area, trying to find more things to kill.

I decided taking them all on, and especially with all the fire around, would be suicide. I occulted myself from the perceptions of others and sprinted towards my home, the home Emaliya and I shared. I found it untouched by flames. I jumped up the side of the building and climbed through the window I had left open this morning.

 **I immediately wished I hadn't.**

As my senses attuned to the room, I smelled things I would rather forget. And the sight that greeted me was one that would forever haunt my nightmares.

I saw Emaliya, the love of my centuries long unlife, bloody, broken, naked and violated on our bed. Her nether regions were completely soiled with seed, and her ribs, arms and legs were broken, bent and mutilated. Her face was beaten and bruised, but she still breathed raggedly.

I hurried over to her and heard her painfully utter my name over and over, like a mantra. I couldn't stand this.

"EMMA! NO, NO, WHAT HAPPENED?!" I screamed in anguish, my heart clenching and twisting, my gut wrenching and my head spinning.

 _How could this happen?! No, no, no, NO, NO, NOOOO!_

Emaliya looked up at me through her bruised and swollen eyes. Tears escaped them, and my vision was blurred by red, my bloody tears trailing down my cheeks and landing on her bare, torn chest.

"Ca… Cai-" she tried to utter my name, but I felt her breath escape her. Her chest stopped heaving, and I no longer heard the passing of wind between her lips. Looking into as much of her eyes as I could, I saw they were lifeless, and as my eyes started seeing past sight, I saw her soul dwindling until it was no more. I started sobbing, my chest heaving and rising with the forced motion of breathing I had been accustomed to for years, now. My blood poured down my face as tears, and I burst into full-on anguished howling.

I gently took Emaliya in my arms and held her close. My screams rang throughout the region, reaching every little crook of darkness that was, and as I wailed, some of the bandits came in to see what was going on. As they saw me, they slowly walked towards me, weapons ready to strike me down.

I saw them, and I gently put the corpse I held, back down on the bed. I rose, my mind going blank and my vision red, but not with tears this time.

I screamed… no. I ROARED, HOWLED and my fingernails grew to become talons, and my canines extended into fangs. My true nature was on full display, and as I changed, my mind grew more distant for every instant that passed.

.

.

.

I sat on my knees on the ground, the soil defiled with the blood of both innocence and guilt. Despite all the flesh I had consumed and blood I had gorged on in my rage, my mouth and throat felt dry. My formerly white shirt was completely red, drenched with the blood of the people who had incurred my wrath and destroyed my happiness. There was no living creature left when my rage had subsided and my frenzy died down. In my arms was the form of my dearest, wrapped in cloth, which was stained red with her blood.

My penetrating howls of pain echoed throughout the night.

That night, for one single night… every single being on Nirn heard my wails, whether they recognized it or not.


	8. Chapter 8

I arose from my restless slumber, my mind reeling at the memories I had experienced in my deathsleep. I looked around, clueless as to what happened, where I was. It soon came back to me.

I had left the small island, three days ago, and had traveled south, towards Whiterun. I had to seek shelter from the sun, as it still burnt me. A fort infested with bandits did nicely to sate my appetite and provide enough cover in the dungeons.

As I climbed out into the night, I saw the lights from Whiterun in the distance. Steeling myself, I started walking.

.

.

.

I reached Whiterun in two hours, and as I neared the outskirts of town, I saw a giant fighting a few humans in a farm. I hurried over to the group and, as I came up on them, shouted at them.

"STOP! STOP! DON'T HURT HIM!" I yelled at them.

A woman with red hair and wielding a bow, looking slightly beast-like in her movements, looked confused at me, like I was a mad man. The big man with the greatsword ignored me and kept hacking away, until I grabbed his blade with my bare hand and sent him flying with a palm strike, soft enough that he wouldn't get hurt. I then grabbed a third and final assailant, a small woman, by the hide harness she wore, and threw her in much the same manner.

I then quickly turned around and looked up into the eyes of the giant. He looked back, and I willed my mind into his, telling him to stop and to go, that he wouldn't be hurt anymore if he did. He was hesitant, but with a soothing stare from me, he nodded deeply at me. I returned the favor, and he started walking away, headed for the plains north of the city.

"Well, that's a first," I heard a lovely, yet strangely also slightly savage, voice from behind me.

I turned to see the red-haired woman with three green stripes painted across her face like claw marks. She looked slightly astonished, but also irritated.

"You know, we had a contract on it. Now, thanks to you, we won't get paid."

She huffed and strode past me, her movements like those of a wild wolf; elegant, graceful and stealthy. I smelt the air, just to be sure. The scent of wet dog was all around me, and I realized that the big fellow I had thrown aside was like her.

They had shared in the blood of the wolf. The beastblood. However, the other woman was strangely free of the scent. The large man I had pushed away grunted as he stood up in his armor, my push having done some damage, it seemed. When he got up, he looked at edgily at me, but followed the wolf woman. I couldn't help but wonder if they were mates, but their aloof behavior to each other suggested otherwise.

The little woman skulked past me, glaring evilly at me as she passed. As I watched them walk to the city, I sighed and decided to continue as I had expected.

When I neared the outer gates, I saw a small gathering of Khajiit outside them. They had tents and a campfire, and I couldn't help but wonder why they were outside the city, when it was clearly a trading caravan. I walked over to them, in the hopes of their hospitality.

"Hail, Khajiit," I spoke to one of them, an elderly looking male, sitting in front of one of the tents.

He perked up and looked at me and spoke with a raspy, feline voice.

"Welcome. If I cannot serve you, I am sure that one of my other traders can do so."

I smiled and sat down across from him.

"Why does Khajiit sit outside the large stones? Does Khajiit not trade within?" I inquired of him.

He started smiling, recognizing the speech pattern I used.

"Aaahh, one that speaks as Khajiit. Ri'saad admits, he did not expect this," he explained to me. "Yes, the stones. Unfortunately, rabi of the yellow steed say thjizzrini do not allow Khajiit in the cities of Skyrim."

I frowned at this.

"But, kriniit thought Suthay-raht were of equal to other races of men and mer?"

The face Ri'saad brightened instantly.

"Kriniit is honored by Ri'saad for his kindness, but Ri'saad is discouraged to inform, that is not the case," the elderly Khajiit rasped out.

I sighed, ran a hand through my hair and stood up. The gaze of the khajiit followed me, saddened that I made to leave.

"Fear not, Suthay-raht. Kriniit will be back another time," I reassured him.

The cat man looked joyed and pulled a little pouch out of a pack lying next to him. He handed me the leather pouch and clasped my hand.

"Until then, kriniit. Should you have need, you will not be krin with us."

I smiled and shook his hand. Then I pocketed the pouch and continued my trek into the city. As I came up to the main gate, I saw a few guards standing by it. When I came closer, one of them approached me.

"Halt! City's closed with dragons about. Official business only."

His voice didn't leave room for discussion, but I knew what would let me in.

"I have news from Helgen about the dragon attack," I persuaded him.

The guard eyed me suspiciously, my sharp eyes picking up the movement of his.

"Fine," he relented, " but we'll be keeping an eye on you."

I smiled at him and headed to the gate.

"Good day, guardsman."

The gate opened, and I took in a sight I had been waiting for:

Streets bustling with people, merchants with stands and people chatting, laughing and smiling. I could hear the clanging of a hammer on metal that was being shaped into a weapon or piece of armor. I smelt the familiar and much adored scent of honey and pie.

Looking around, I saw an open window with a pie in the windowsill. A **meat** pie. I felt my mouth wetting with the blood that had replaced all my bodily fluids millennia ago. Despite my nature requiring me to drink blood and naturally abhor food, I had found that I could overcome the instinct to regurgitate it, and actually enjoy it.

Sneaking over as stealthily I could without drawing attention to myself from the few night-active people, I came up right next to the window and looked inside. I saw a woman with flour on her apron and a little on her face, sitting quietly in a chair with her back turned to me. I heard very faint snores coming from her, informing me she was asleep.

Checking once more to see if anyone was looking, which fortunately no one was, I deftly snatched the pie and left a small purse of sixteen or twenty gold septim.

I walked until I came to a large tree with benches around it. I sat down and happily started eating the pie. It had been a long time since I had had pie. It was a precious moment to me. The texture, the flavor, the smell, all of it called to each of my senses, which I delightfully heightened to more fully enjoy the perfect meal.

When I finished, I sat back and reflected on my life, or rather un-life, thus far.

According to Larkaeus, or more correctly, Harkon, it had been roughly three thousand years since I first met him, and I had existed for at least a thousand years, most likely more, before that.

More than four thousand years, I had lived a cursed un-life. Sure, I had spent much of it asleep or in dungeons and prisons, hunted down and entombed by vampire hunters who had been unable to truly kill me. I had been in the tomb for roughly four hundred years, if the people, books and archives had been anything to go by.

I was suddenly struck by an arrow in the shoulder. In an instant, I relied on an old reflex to hide myself from hunters: I screamed and fell to the floor, shouting in "pain" while grasping the "injured" shoulder and yelled.

"AARRGH, WHAT IN OBLIVION ARE YOU DOING!?"

I looked up through half-lidded eyes and saw the red haired woman from before with slight surprise in her face, but she merely scoffed and walked into… a large boat, upside down? The structure I saw was a mix of a hut and a ship, but it looked familiar. Like I had seen the ship somewhere before.

Standing up and taking the arrow out of my shoulder, grunting and panting heavily (for show, of course), I started walking to the temple of Kyne I saw on the other side of the small plaza I was in.

.

.

.

Entering the temple, I spotted a shrine and walked over to it. I knelt before it and bowed my head. I felt a rush of wind and heard the splashing of a body of water. I felt my shoulder heal, and my blood quicken with energy, making me clear-headed and feeling revitalized.

Looking up, I silently thanked and praised Kyne for her millennia of support. I had been explained by a priest that Arkay had made deals with the other Divines; Molag Bal had used some power stolen and borrowed from other Daedric Princes to defile and change me at my core, trying to twist me into a macabre and mindless puppet monster of mass destruction with powerful magics of decay, filth and all things unholy.

Being a faithful and devout follower and priest-in-training to Arkay, He looked upon me with favor and saved me from my existence. With the help of the other Divines, He negated a few of the things Bal did to me and gave me many good-aligned powers to balance the evil ones.

Kyne had donated communion, dominion and power over animals. I would stop infighting and control them to do what was needed for survival when they did not know what to do themselves. She also allowed me to change my shape at will, become bats, a wolf, mist and even forms not known to any man.

I rose to my feet with my shoulder healed, though pained by the remaining divine energy, another irremovable curse from the accursed Daedra. No matter how much they favored me, their energy and magic would always hurt and harm me a little.

I left the temple after leaving a rather large donation of around fifty septim.

The first thing I saw was the brightening horizon. I slowly walked over to the tree in the center of the small plaza and stood on the soil, the soil I sank into a mere moment later, to await dusk and my reawakening.


	9. Chapter 9

As the sun set, my awareness returned to me and I immediately extracted myself from the comfortable, safe earth I had hidden in during the day. As I rose to greet the night, I saw a few people standing around me, most notable among them the redhead that shot me and the large man with the greatsword, the shapeshifters.

The redhead's bow was drawn and trained on me, the large man stood side-by-side with another man of almost equal proportions. They were very similar, and I could only assume they were brothers.

Both had greatswords at my neck.

A third man, balding on the top of his head with white and gray hair on the sides, stood next to the woman and had a broadsword's point an inch from my eye.

"Who are you, cur!? You carry the scent of the blood, but you are clearly an unliving abomination!" the woman spoke in high volume.

Sniffing the air, I smelled the beastblood in the two other men as well.

 _Damn, seems I walked into the wolves' lair._

I looked around at them, trying to gain my bearings. The sword pointed at my eye almost poked it out, but my sight was much sharper than the edge of the steel blade, and so I was less than a tenth of an inch from the sword.

I started walking to my right, where there was a slight gap between the first large man I had met and the woman. Immediately, the aforementioned fur ball swung his blade at my neck. I steeled myself and let the blood flow to the skin of my neck, toughening it like dragon bone.

As the sword made contact, my keen eyes and unmatchable reflexes tracked every single of the thousands of steel shards.

I also saw the eyes of all the wolves in human disguise widen in shock, the arrow from the feral woman loosen and fly towards my face. I leisurely reached up and took the arrow between my thumb and first finger. I snapped the wooden shaft with a little pressure from my fingers, and simply stepped back when the two remaining swords came to rend me.

With a little more energy, I sidestepped past the people and stopped behind them. As I willed the preternatural speed enhancing my body to stop, I was surprised when I just felt my energy and blood keep draining and the world still far slower than it should be. Looking around, everything kept moving at a crawling pace.

I started worrying about whether or not I would actually ever be able to stop this state of velocity, but the world suddenly sped up again to normal speed. I turned back to the shifters and saw them panic.

"Where did he go!? He was right here! I can even still smell him here!" the oldest of the four yelled. The others looked to him and around, seemingly confused.

As was I, because they all looked at me in passing, never really seeing me, even as I was standing right behind the elder and the redhead. I realized I had obfuscated myself from their minds.

 _Why are my powers spiraling out of control? I have had them for millennia, and now they fail and activate at their own whims. What a curious turn of events, most certainly._

I revealed myself again, the group quickly noticing me. They whipped around and held their weapons (those whose were still intact, at least) in defensive positions. I held up my hands with my palms facing them.

"Peace, doggies, I'm not here to take your biscuits," I started with an amused look, "I didn't even know there were half-beasts here in Whiterun. I was one of you, true. And I still am. But I'm not here for destruction."

They seemed very offended at the nickname of a dog. They slowly lowered their weapons, if only slightly. The woman looked more interested now.

"'Not here for destruction'? That's cute, your friends were here not a week ago and killed several of citizens in the town.

I put my hands down and my look turned into a frown.

"Friends? I only have one friend, and she is far from here."

They were confused, I could tell. The brother who still carried a sword lowered it and started rummaging through his pouches. He soon found what he looked for, a pin of sorts. He walked up to me and handed me it.

I took it and held it up, examining it. I recognized the insignia: Clan Volkihar.

"Yeah," I started, my thoughts of Harkon suddenly dropping a lot lower, "I know them." I looked up at the man. "This is a pin from clan Volkihar, a large community of vampires situated along the northern coast to the Sea of Ghosts. They hide under the ice of the Sea of Ghosts, waiting for people to come out there. They then reach their hands through the ice without breaking it, and pull their victim down under, where they feed."

I handed the pin back and the man took it. He looked analyzing at me for a little while before he put it back in the pouch and extended his hand to me. He wasn't really smiling, but I sensed the acceptance in his mind.

I took it and shook his hand.

"Vilkas," he said.

"Vitus," I returned.

The other brute of a man came over, same as Vilkas.

"Sorry for the sword. I'm Farkas, Vilkas' brother," he grumbled out, likewise extending his hand, mimicking his brother's manners.

"Don't worry about it, Farkas. You're not the first to try it," I said when I shook his hand.

The redhead and the elderly man both eyed him suspiciously for a few moments before turning and walking back to the upside-down ship. Vilkas and Farkas both looked to the rude people who didn't even try to vaguely apologize for trying to murder the, seemingly innocent, man. Then Vilkas turned back to me.

"Those are Aela and Skjor. Neither trust the undead in the slightest, not even when they don't harm anyone," he explained. "Farkas and I are a bit more open-minded to it, but I must admit it creeps me out talking to dead people."

I chuckled lightly, giving him a smile of amusement.

"I know the feeling. Besides, try waking up and realizing you don't have a heartbeat. It's really frightening in the beginning, actually."

Vilkas seemed interested in the information, and seemed to have the desire to learn more, but he looked around and then looked at me again.

"What were you doing in the ground, anyway? Aren't vampires bound to their coffins, or some such?" he asked me with curiosity in his voice.

"No, not exactly," I laughed, "But some vampires do tend to adopt the habit, true. I don't know why, but I presume they have the same beliefs you do."

I paused for a little and looked around. I had no money left after my donation to the temple of Kyne, to I had to make do without a room for a while. I got an idea and spoke to Vilkas.

"Hey, do you know a way to get money fast? I would kind of like to rent a room at the inn, but I'm all out of gold."

Vilkas brightened up slightly.

"Well, you could join The Companions."

 _The what-now!? Companions!? They still exist!?_

"Sorry, what do you mean, The Companions? I thought the Five Hundred disbanded centuries ago, after the Return?"

Vilkas and Farkas looked at me with surprised faces, looking between each other and back at me.

"Well, you certainly know your history, if not the later parts," Vilkas said. "The Companions didn't disband, but most of them did abandon their weapons after the death of Ysgramor."

"Well, we can bring you to Kodlak Whitemane, the Harbinger. If you're worthy of joining up, he's the man to judge it."

I considered it quite seriously. I would have a bed, a roof over my head, companions (no, that pun wasn't intended) and would probably gain yet another reason to keep existing. Also, it would keep him busy with new things.

"Sure. I'll see him," I told them.

Vilkas smiled and Farkas grunted in approval. They started walking back to the structure they came out of, with me following them. As we neared the building, I knew I recognized it.

"Is that Jorrvaskr, up there?" I asked while I pointed up at the hull that formed the roof. It definitely looked like it. "The one Menro and Manwe built?"

Farkas and Vilkas looked at me, both astonished.

"Who? This," Vilkas said while gesturing the entire building, "is Jorrvaskr. The home of The Companions."

I looked at it a little while longer with a weird, confused look on my face (kind of like CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow). Then I shrugged and went with it, following them inside.


	10. Chapter 10

When I entered the building, I was met with a vision like out of a dream. I smelt the mead and food, I heard the joyful cheer of friendship and I saw people laughing and talking with glee as there was a fight in one end of the rather large feasting hall. I looked around, and couldn't help the smile that came to my face.

 _It's just like back then. How I miss them. Especially you, Ysgramor. You were worthy of being Tamriel's king._

As my eyes wandered the hall, my sight fell upon something heart-breaking; Wuuthrad was broken into tiny pieces, and many of the pieces on the board were missing.

"NO!" I screamed and ran over to the formerly great axe. Everyone inside quieted and looked at me as I sat on my knees and looked up at the axe.

"No…" came out as barely a whisper between my lips. Vilkas came up to me from behind.

"What is it? What's wrong?" he asked.

I turned to him with horror in my eyes and gestured to the once-mighty weapon.

"Wuuthrad! How did Wuuthrad break!? It was indestructible, nothing could break it! I watched Ysgramor slay giants in single slashes with it!" I cried out, my eyes brimming with tears of blood.

All eyes around me widened in surprise at this revelation, that I had fought beside Ysgramor. Vilkas was the first to speak up.

"Then that means- you were a Companion? An original Companion, one of the Five Hundred?"

I looked up at him and nodded. My gaze turned back to Wuuthrad.

"Ohhhh… I watched Yngol forge this blade fit for a god. With the craftsmanship put into it, the ebony it is made of… not to mention the storms I conjured to provide the lightning to forge it…" my voice broke and I couldn't continue. It was a very sad moment for me, to witness such horror. But my resolve strengthened. I stood back up and wiped my eyes with my sleeve, leaving a deep red stain in my clothes. I looked out over the Companions, as few of them as there were in this day and age.

"Good men and women of the Companions! I swear to you! I will find the remaining pieces of Wuuthrad, and I will forge the weapon back together! Even if it destroys me, I will not relent until our Atmoran king Ysgramor's mighty right hand is whole once more!"

Every single person in there cheered and I could feel that they welcomed me, even if I wasn't a Companion anymore. Vilkas clapped while looking at me with a peculiar stare. He then stopped and grabbed me by the shoulder.

"Now, we just need to get you down to Kodlak. I'm sure he has a great many questions for you," he said as he dragged me along. I let myself be taken down a set of stairs and through a pair of doors. We came into an underground corridor and he turned me down to the right. At the end of the corridor, I saw a study behind double doors, in which an elderly looking man was sitting in a chair at a desk, pouring over documents and books. He wasn't wearing armor, but rather common clothes for relaxation.

As we came up to the study, the man seemed to hear us and looked up at us. I immediately recognized the scent of the beast in him, and I chalked it up to being a sort of inner circle or organization that was given lycanthropy. None of the ones upstairs had beastblood in them.

"Harbinger," Vilkas spoke to the man, "we have an important recruit."

The man, Kodlak, looked me up and down, before he spoke up.

"Do we now? Here, let me have a look at you? Hmm. Yes, perhaps. A certain strength of spirit," he said with a strong voice for one of his age. "So, young one. What makes you so important?"

I looked at Vilkas, who gave me an encouraging nod, and I spoke my piece to the elder werewolf.

"I am one of the original Five Hundred Companions. And I am not as young as I look."

Kodlak's gaze didn't falter the slightest and my respect for him increased.

"Well," he started, "I had not expected such an occurrence, I must say." He didn't sound very impressed, but it didn't seem like he passed it off as a lie, either.

"So you must be one of the," *sniff, sniff* "immortal ones. A vampire?"

When I shook my head, he was a little surprised.

"But I can smell the blood in you. It's not fresh, which means you haven't fed recently, but you have still drunk blood."

I quickly scouted out the double doors and made sure no one was there. I then gestured Vilkas to take a seat as I closed the doors and locked them. I turned back and grabbed a chair which I sat down on.

"I have quite the story for you, moon children."


	11. Chapter 11

_Once upon a time, long ago, there was a tribe of humans, the Skinwalkers. These humans were not as other beings were, at the time. At the rise of a full moon, they would transform into wolves. They bred true for a while, but it ended when the young leader of their tribe was to find a mate. He chose a woman not of the wolf-people._

 _He chose a girl, no more than ten._

 _The tribe was furious, that he dared take for himself a weakling little girl, not even of the moon. But he protected the girl from his tribe's attempts at her life. For five years, he protected her and kept her from the claws and fangs of his tribesmen._

 _They fell in love, and when she was of age, they consummated their union._

 _They had a baby boy, a boy who carried the deep blue eyes of the tribe's alpha, but the blond hair of his mother. He grew up quickly and learned the ways of the wolf, the ways of the hunt and the ways of the shaman._

 _When he was yet young, his mother died of illness, and his father took a new wife, this time a skinwalker. They birthed another boy. This boy was born in a time when the tribe had started herding animals, to make things easier in a period of famine. He was taught the ways of the animals and the ways of the shepherd._

 _However, soon the land was unfit for life: plants withered and died, animals fled to other lands and storms and harsh winters became common._

 _The alpha took his family and went east to find men who could bring them to more prosperous lands. They succeeded, and were brought across the ocean to a frozen North, with tundras and giant creatures walking the earth._

 _They made this place their home, for a little while._

 _Soon, they began wandering further south, eventually reaching a jungle. In this jungle, they settled and the boys grew up. When the eldest reached manhood, he went out one day in search of animals to hunt. He came across a dark man. His skin was not dark, but the very air surrounding him was twisted._

 _Without a word, the man struck down the young skinwalker._

 _The skinwalker's spirit was torn from his body and the dark man claimed it and dragged it to a world beyond the skinwalker's._

 _The ground was mud, the air freezing and the sky ablaze with azure flames. Everything was twisted, rotten and decaying. All around it, the skinwalker saw other spirits, bound by chains and screaming in agony. The dark man came to the skinwalker and started cutting the spirit, flaying it, tearing it apart._

 _The skinwalker's spirit was strong, stronger than the dark man had anticipated, but it broke none the less._

 _After what seemed like centuries to the spirit, it was turned. It grew horribly corrupt, dark and evil. Desires it had never felt before welled up in it. It wanted to tear, to burn, to rend, to kill. It hungered for mortal flesh and thirsted for mortal blood. It had wicked claws, fangs sharper than the finest blade and a visage that frightened even the most hardened evil spirits._

 _The wicked spirit was sent back to the world from whence it came. It no longer recognized anything around it, not even the body it possessed: the body it had worn for eighteen years._

 _It was hungry, thirsty and it desired destruction. The newly risen corpse walked to its former family. It ripped its father in twain, ate its brother and violated and murdered its brother's mother. From there, it started roaming the land, killing, mutilating, slaughtering and raping its way across the place it had called home._

 _A year and a day after the wicked spirit had returned to inhabit its former body, a light man came to it. It first attempted to do onto the man what it would do onto anyone, but the light man said halt, and it did stop. Touching the monster's head, the man purged filth from its mind, freeing it from mindless slavery._

 _Touching its chest, the man purged filth from its heart, freeing it from savoring evil acts._

 _Reaching in and touching the monster's soul, the man could not undo what had been done to the poor creature. But he did grant it powers of refuge. The beast would no more be controlled by any force. The beast would no more spread chaos, death and ruin._

 _The man spoke with authority, and told that the lord of death, burial and rebirth had seen upon the young man with favor and pity. The god communed with his fellows, and they all gave a gift._

 _Lord of commerce gave charisma and command. To bend the wills around him and sway even the strongest minds._

 _Lord of time and flying beasts gave authority. To achieve anything, and be successful in endeavors._

 _Lady of love and union gave humanity. To retain, refine and control humanity._

 _Lady of lust and desire gave senses. To perceive and observe that which could not be perceived or observed._

 _Lady of the land gave understanding and dominion. To rule the animals and speak with them, to protect them._

 _Lord of unknown energies gave Power. To bend and twist reality, to perform miracles._

 _Lord of righteous anger and protection gave strength, resilience and speed. To defeat any threat in combat._

 _All these gifts were granted upon the beast, and he was relieved. No longer would he have to succumb to every whim of the dark man._

 _Or so he thought. But the dark man had other plans._

 _Working in rare union with some of his fellows, they granted a little power. Powers and curses were cast upon the beast to spite the light ones._

 _Lord of the hunt and beasts gave a Beast and bestial urges. To never be wholly safe from the Beast, to have urges and powers of destruction._

 _Lady of the twilight gave shadows and darkness. To bend darkness and to corrupt the beast in due time with the shadow's mysterious allure._

 _Lord of destruction gave banes of light. To burn in fire and sunlight, to fear flame and shine._

 _Lady of hidden matters gave obscurity. To hide and conceal anything, and also to be easily forgotten and alone._

 _Lord of knowledge gave knowledge. To know and understand, to discover and uncover, but to never invent or device._

 _Lady of treachery gave distrust. To never trust, to betray trust and to play others, in spite of all._

 _Lord of debauchery and trickery gave mirages. To trick, confuse and misdirect. To never show the truth, nor to know the truth._

 _With this, the beast ran and escaped all the spirits. Using his new powers, he concealed himself from their perceptions. In the first centuries after the escape, the beast fled back to its homeland. On its way, it helped a flock of his old kinsmen in their journey back to their home._

 _With the power of their grief, he chose to aid them, heeding the warnings the spirits had bespoken onto him. The beast's humanity was restored, but it would only stay that way if he tried to stay in touch with his former self._

 _Centuries upon centuries the beast ran. He never made friends for long, never trusted anyone, never stayed anywhere for very long. Always on the move, always on the hunt, never stopping._

 _Until a young girl promised to marry him and make him happy._

 _He spent five years with the girl until he married her. She made him happy._

 _A year and a day after their marriage, the young woman was killed by servants of the dark man, new monsters created in the image of the beast. A hundred times more loyal, a hundred times weaker. In his rage, the beast destroyed the monsters and hunted down the rest._

 _After centuries of killing these monsters, who were as long-lived as the beast himself, he was close to giving up. For every monster the beast destroyed, ten more would appear. But a single spark of understanding brightened his spirits:_

 _Without the roots, the tree will perish._

 _If the beast could destroy the one that spawned the rest of them, they would slowly die out. The blood connected them to each other, as the blood connected the beast to the world._

 _He went to sleep. To prepare for the upcoming crusade. He slept for five centuries and awoke to recover his strength, back in the land of the northern shores._

 _His goal: the utter and total destruction of "vampires", the servants of Molag Bal. And eventually, the king of rape himself._

 _Now, he is sitting, conversing with the remainders of the Companions, trying to reestablish a connection with his waning Humanitas. He wishes to be with his kin and to destroy the minions of his arch nemesis, before trying to destroy the Daedric Prince._


	12. Chapter 12

Kodlak looked at me with a gaze that spoke of uncertainty, awe and comprehension. I knew that the man found the tale intriguing, but was also suspicious of it. Vilkas was just in awe. I rubbed my hands together, anxiously awaiting Kodlak's verdict. We sat in silence for almost an entire minute before Kodlak spoke again.

"So you're saying that you are, what, five thousand years old, the original vampire that came before vampires, a natural–born werewolf that came before werewolves, blessed and cursed by most every Divine and Daedric Prince, and finally, you want to destroy Molag Bal, a Daedric Prince who is basically a god in his own right, and as such is virtually immortal, invincible and indestructible?"

I sat silent in the chair, slowly realizing how stupid it actually sounded when you put it in basic terms. I opened my mouth several times to speak, but nothing came out. Until something did come out.

"Well, when you put it like that… yes, I suppose. I suppose that is the gist of it," I replied, in awe at the absurdity of the claim, which was true nonetheless.

Kodlak raised a brow and huffed in amusement. "Well," his coarse voice sounded, "I suppose we will help you achieve this goal of yours. If you are truly an original Companion, you are likely better suited as Harbinger than myself."

"No, no, I would be no good as Harbinger. I just want to be a Companion again. And your aid in my eternal endeavor would be much appreciated."

Kodlak nodded approvingly. He looked to Vilkas, who nodded, and then back at me.

"You are welcome here any time, brother. What is your true name? Your birth name?"

I smiled sadly at him. "My birth name has been forgotten long ago, brother. But you can call me what the rest of my tribe called me, my wolf name."

I grew silent, and Kodlak and Vilkas waited silently for me to tell them my name. I opened my eyes and felt the Beast in me shine through them as my irises glowed bright red.

"My name is Caine."


End file.
